


Twidark

by GenghisKanye



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Awkward Boners, Awkward Crush, Awkward First Times, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Sexual Situations, Awkwardness, Banter, Blow Jobs, Crack, England (Country), First Time, High School, Human/Vampire Relationship, Imprinting, M/M, Moving, Necrophilia, Sarcasm, Shower Sex, Sporks, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Twilight Bashing, Vampires, Werewolf Sex, Werewolves, Why Did I Write This?, YouTube, body glitter, genghis kanye ft fearmint create mistakes, have mercy on us
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2018-07-17 23:28:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7290415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GenghisKanye/pseuds/GenghisKanye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I never gave much thought to how I would die- and frankly I didn’t give a fuck. To be honest, I never thought dating a clumsy nerd would lead to this. </p><p>Across the room his soulless, red eyes peered at me through the darkness. He smiled an unnervingly pleasant smile, as if we were just sitting down to a nice cup of tea- instead of planning to rip my fucking head off. </p><p>It was a pretty shitty way to die. It was all the fucking nerds fault. I can’t really blame him though; wait yes I can. Although he was just doing what he thought was right -emphasis on thought- he fucked up. He fucked up big time. </p><p>God damn it. None of this would have ever happened if I hadn’t have moved here, if I’d stayed in Arizona like Troye had wanted me to. Fucking Sporks. Who names a town Sporks anyway? Whatever though. I can’t say I’m too happy about my impending doom but I guess it has been a good ride. When life offers you a dream so far beyond any of your expectations, it's unreasonable to grieve when it comes to an end. I can still complain about it though.</p><p>His smile remained unfaltering as he lumbered forward, undeterred, to kill me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gaydar

**Author's Note:**

> Hello internet! Welcome to Twidark. Enjoy reading this mess of a creation that I, GenghisKanye, have penned (cough) for your entertainment. 
> 
> Special thanks to my editor, Fearmint, who i have listed as my co-author, for, well, editing this massive brain fart. 
> 
> Why did i write this? Why did i make this a thing? What is life?
> 
> If you're actually reading this, well, um, why? But congratulations on not getting bored of my ramblings. 
> 
> Fearmint and I sincerely hope you enjoy this monstrosity. 
> 
> Happy reading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya, I didn't even know we had started uploading until just now! So as a forewarning from me (Mint) and Kanye, we take no responsibility for the mistakes and atrocities we have committed in the making of this! I blame it on gas fumes and school stress. Also DxD. That said, Enjoy!

My dad – Troye - drove me to the airport with the air-con on full. It was so fucking hot. Why does Phoenix exist for god’s sake? The existence of Arizona was heretic. We were both practically naked, the only way to survive the baking sun. That’s a bonding experience, just a son and father, nearly naked in a car, skin pasted to the leather upholstery. 

Somewhere south of the North Pole is a place called England. In this mystical land of rain, fog, and more rain there is a place called Sporks. As unimportant and uneventful as it sounds, I’ve been summering -depending on what you define as summer- there almost every year with Tyler, my other father. I know what you’re thinking, and no, I wasn’t adopted. They simply skirt around how they made a baby that defied the laws of nature like the mysterious bastards they are. But times have changed since Troye remarried, I don’t want to bust in on Troye getting funky with Joey. My mind is too delicate to be defiled that way. Joey’s loaded (in more than one way, I would know – the walls are too thin in that house), but the therapy I would need would cripple his bank account. 

So I’m protecting my innocence (who am I kidding, our Wi-Fi never had any restrictions) and moving to Sporks. Apart from the name, it’s pretty okay; it beats the boiling hell I currently reside in. At least I’m prepared for my inevitable decent into hell.

“Dan,” Troye said to me as the other passengers cued to board the plane, “You don’t have to go, I’m sorry you had to hear what happened last night.”

Troye looks nothing like me, neither of my Dad’s look like me - which enforces my theory that I may have been adopted and was not a magical, mystical ass baby – he’s a good head shorter than me and we look similar in age -which is frankly quite disturbing- but has a slender face and pixie like features. His hair is also forever in a perfect coif, which annoys me to no extent. Regret briefly rushed through me. As much as I hated Arizona, I didn’t really want to leave. My small circle of friends was here, as was Troye and Joey. No matter how much I was pissed at their, er, ‘night-time activities’, I still loved them regardless. 

“It’s too late to apologise now, the damage has been done,” I shook my head and forced a mocking frown on my face. Troye smiled back half-heartedly, cheered by my attempt at sarcasm. 

“Tell Tyler I said hi,” He said, “and… don’t mention what happened last night.”

“Don’t worry; I’ve already erased the memories from my mind.”

“I’ll see you soon, Dan,” he smiled, “remember you’re always welcome here.”

“Goodbyes are for the weak,” I said, my voice cracked and betrayed my emotion, but thankfully Dad didn’t mention it, “I love you, Dad.”

We hugged awkwardly for a few seconds, and then I boarded the plane with the other passengers. Troye waved as I passed through the flight gates, and left.

Ten hours and thirty minutes of hell sitting between a voluminous man with an odour problem and a mother and her demon child, who would not stop screaming, I arrived in London where Tyler was waiting to drive me to Sporks, two hours away. Flying never bothered me (except for when I’m seated next to DEMON BABIES!) but I was a bit anxious about the car ride. Don’t get me wrong, I love Tyler, but he can be a little overbearing sometimes. He would be a little too excited about the move. He had already enrolled me in the local high school, planned out half my life and named my first born child. Ok maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration. 

When I landed in London it was raining- what a surprise- and Tyler was waiting for me with his police cruiser. Tyler was Sporks’ police chief but he also owned the local fashion boutique. When I asked why he was still an officer he simply stated that the uniform made his butt look nice. 

When I entered the arrivals lounge, Tyler screamed and threw his arms around my neck -an impressive feat seeing as he came up to my nipples. 

“Oh my god my little Danny is all grown up!” Tyler squealed, earning us a few dirty looks from passers-by. 

“Dad you saw me six months ago,” I grimaced, “I can’t have changed that much.”

“Ugh. Don’t call me dad. It makes me feel old.”

“Da-Tyler you are old.”

“You don’t have to rub it in.”

As we walked over to the baggage claim, Tyler decided it would be a good time to ask about Troye. 

“So, how’s Troye? Does he miss me a lot?” Tyler smiled coyly. 

“Er, he’s fine. He says hi. He’s quite happy now he’s found Joey.”

Tyler’s face dropped. “Oh. That’s… nice, I guess.” The rest of the walk through the airport was silent. 

We loaded my few bags of clothes and precious items into the trunk of the cruiser and belted ourselves in. Tyler seemed to have recovered his chipper mood as he chirped on about the previous year.

“You won’t believe what I found for you!” Tyler exclaimed as we began our journey to Sporks. 

“Oh god it isn’t a part of one of your masochistic games is it?”

“What? No, not this time,” He giggled. Not this time. Great. “I got you a car!”

“What car? Where? How much? Do I have to sell my body to afford it?” I asked suspiciously. 

Tyler snorted. “Do you remember Mr Ridgewell from La Pull?”

“No. Is he hot?” 

Tyler chose to ignore my perfectly reasonable question. “He used to go fishing with us when you were but a young lad.”

“That would explain why I don’t remember him. I have a shit memory. I can’t even remember what I did yesterday let alone a guy from 10 years ago.”

“Well he’s in a wheelchair now so he can’t drive anymore so he’s giving me his ride from way back when.”

“It’s the 21st century. I can’t ride a chariot to school, Tyler.”

Tyler looked at me blankly and slowly turned back to the road. 

“How much was it?”

“You really think I was going to pay for a car? It was free.”

“Wow, free? Sweet.”

“It’s a little old but if you’re good to it, it will still run as if it were brand new.”

“Just like you, eh?”

“I swear to god, Danny, I will run this fucking car into the first tree I see.”

“But there are so many. However will you choose?” Tyler slapped me upside the head, but it was more difficult that it seemed to stop laughing. It was true. There were a lot of trees. Too many trees. I hadn’t had the best experience with trees. The entire town was surrounded in a dense forest. It looked as if it hadn’t been touched by the modern world. 

We passed a sign welcoming us to Sporks. Under it, in pretty calligraphy, ‘Now fuck off’ was painted in bright pink paint. That wasn’t there last time I came. 

We arrived outside Tyler’s house. He still lived in the beautiful, Victorian style house that he had bought with Troye shortly before my mysterious conception – I wondered if it had Wi-Fi. Parked outside was my drug bus, ready to go back into business. Too bad it will never see another unshaven addict again (or at least I hoped not). It was sky blue and had been stained by years of rust and neglect. It reminded me of myself. Despite that, it looked as if someone had fixed it up nicely. 

Nice. Now I could arrive to school in style. 

“Thanks, Tyler. Remind me to thank Mr Ridgewell if I see him.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I know I’m awesome.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” He glared at me and sashayed inside, leaving me to gather my bags. That dick. 

I lugged my bags up to my room and collapsed onto the bed. It was on the second floor of the house and the window looked out over the backyard that was shadowed by the surrounding forest. The floor was covered in light grey carpet and the wall painted a plain off white. A dark, wooden bed took up most of the room, pale fairy lights haphazardly thrown along the headboard. Two matching bedside tables sat on either side of the bed and an empty desk sat opposite it.

First things first, I unpacked my laptop and sat it on the unoccupied surface. Priorities am I right? Then I attempted to unpack the rest of my belongings -I opened my bag at least. 

Tyler left me alone for a while. One of the best things about him is he knows when you need to be alone although he would prefer to spend time with you. It was a bit of a relief. I needed a bit of time to reflect on the day. I stared out the window and listened to the sound of the rain pattering on the window. I wasn’t really in the mood to do anything. I was already worrying about tomorrow. 

Sporks high school had a total of three hundred and fifty-seven -fifty-eight if you included me -students. If I could only find a small group of people to call friends at my last school, where there were more than seven hundred people in my year alone, what were the chances I’d find any here? Everyone here had grown up together, hell; their grandparents probably grew up together too. I would just be an intruder. 

At least I’d probably fit in physically and be able to stay mostly inconspicuous for a while. I was pale- freakishly pale-, and I’d bet some of the kids here would look as if they never saw a sunny day in their life. I was gangly and awkward too, despite my height. The most I could lift was a spoon full of Nutella to my mouth, and that’s all I’d ever tried to lift in my life. My limbs were too gangly and I lacked the hand-eye coordination and general control of my body to participate in anything more physical than walking without seriously hurting someone -usually myself. 

I was socially awkward, and that always stopped me fitting in with the people around me. Even Dad sometimes couldn’t relate to me and usually left me to my own devices. And if my experiences in life had something to say, tomorrow was going to suck.

In an effort to wash away my dread for tomorrow, I showered and washed off the dried sweat and general airplane yuck that always stuck to my skin after a long flight. There was only one bathroom on the second floor, which I would have to share with Tyler. It was cluttered with lotions, scrubs and hair dye. Playing obstacle course with Tyler’s necessities, I emerged from the shower feeling refreshed. It wasn’t long, though, before fear settled in. 

I slept surprisingly well, despite the looming feeling of dread. The constant rhythm of the rain outside was oddly soothing and I was asleep within the hour. 

Thick fog was all I could see out my window the next morning. I felt claustrophobic, you could never see the sky here; it was unnerving. 

Breakfast with Tyler was a fiasco. He spent the entire time dancing around the kitchen and burning food while I awkwardly tried to stand at a safe distance that wouldn’t offend him. From now on I’m cooking breakfast. He left first. I watched his cruiser pull out of the driveway from the kitchen window. I took a moment to survey my surroundings. Tyler’s kitchen was quite stylish. Both the walls and tiles were white along with the drawers. The counter tops were black marble and the fridge classic silver. The only thing in the sink was a whisk. I shuddered as the memories flooded into my mind; pancakes should never be this traumatising. I wandered out of the kitchen and into the living room and dropped onto the suede couch. I examined the array of photographs that adorned the walls. The first set was of Tyler and Troye’s extravagant wedding -a small service officiated by a drunk priest. The second set was the baby pictures I had- there’s not really much documentation of the years before I was 6. God I was adorable, what happened? The third was my school pictures, up until this year. I almost had a full-on cringe attack when I saw the awful hairstyle I had as an adolescent. I made a mental note to burn them at the first opportunity.

Tyler still had all of Troye’s old possessions. He hadn’t changed the house at all since he left. Maybe he had hoped that, by some miracle, Troye would come back and we would all be a family again. But that was impossible. Troye was happy with Joey, so I put the thought out of my mind. I grabbed my coat and walked out of the house.

It was still raining slightly as I fished the house key out of my pocket and locked the door. I walked down the drive and attempted to leap over what I thought was a shallow puddle. Water splashed up and soaked my jeans. I made it to the sanctuary of my van and I collapsed into the driver’s side. The interior was quite nice. The tan, leather upholstery looked new and had an earthy musk to it. I wondered whether it was Tyler or Steve that fixed it up. The engine started with a thunderous roar. It was an old van; it was bound to have a few flaws. At least the radio worked. I turned it on and was comforted by my favourite band; Muse. 

Finding the school was surprisingly difficult for a small town. I somehow got lost three times and had to ask directions from a shady looking man wearing a trench coat who offered to sell me a cheap Rolex (which I politely declined like a true gentleman). 

Sporks High was a sprawling mass of red bricks buildings that were almost completely engulfed in the nature around them. I pulled my drug bus into the closest available carpark, and hopped out. There was only one set of glass double doors leading into the nearest building, which I assumed was the administrator’s office, and I slammed right into one before seeing the ‘Pull’ sign. I entered the building and shook out my hair, avoiding the receptionist who had obviously witnessed my failed entrance. 

The reception was small and welcoming. Along the bright yellow walls, were a few… abstract artworks -for lack of a better description. There was a large, mahogany counter that stretched around the room and behind it sat a plump, middle aged woman with short, mouse brown hair and horn-rimmed glasses. She was wearing a plain, white t-shirt under a navy cardigan, which made me feel as if I was somewhat overdressed. 

“Can I help you?” She asked, suppressing a smirk. 

“Just so you know, that -that wasn’t me,” I lied. It’s my first day; I’ll get enough judgement from my new classmates. 

“Right.” The smirk the woman was suppressing broke out on her face. “Is there anything can help you with?”

“I-I’m,” I stuttered, “I’m…” I blanked. “My name. I forgot my name.”

“You’re the new student. Daniel Howell, right?” 

“Yes.” I felt heat creeping up my face. The receptionist laughed, confirming that I was indeed blushing. 

She dug through a large pile of documents on her desk until she recovered a manila folder. She beckoned me forward. When I didn’t move she chuckled. “Don’t be shy. I don’t bite… hard.” I took a few hesitant steps forward. She opened the folder and laid a few documents out on the desk. “Your class schedule and map,” She stated, gesturing to each document. She gave me a few slips to have my teachers sign and sent me on my way. 

More students were starting to arrive. I looked around at some of the cars people drove. Most of the cars were pretty old, like mine, which I was thankful for. I didn’t want my drug bus to stand out. There was one car that really stood out; a shiny, silver, Volvo. I wondered who owned it. 

I sat on a bench outside and examined the map, hoping to memorise it before class started. I already had trouble enough walking in a straight line without having to look at my map at the same time. I slid the paper in my bag and –not so gracefully- leapt up from the bench. 

I exhaled deeply and walked around to one of the other buildings labelled ‘E Block’. I was immediately engulfed in a sea of unfamiliar faces- for a small school it sure was crowded. I kept my head down, only looking up to check the room numbers. I needed to find E13, my English room. E11, E12, E13! Found it. 

I entered the classroom, following two girls inside. They were quite pretty, I noted. One was porcelain-skinned with short, blonde hair and the other, also pale, with light brown hair. Most of the students had already arrived and were getting ready for class. I felt their gazes bore into my back as I walked over to the teacher. 

I approached his desk. He was quite thin, young and of average height. He had wavy, brown hair and blue-green eyes. The nameplate on his desk said his name was Mr Turner. I handed him the slip which he signed, but not after gawking slightly when he read my name. 

“You’re Officer Oakley’s son, aren’t you?” He asked me. 

“That is correct, sir.” I replied respectfully. He examined me for a moment before giving me the reading list and asking me to take a seat. I sat at an empty desk at the back of the room and examined the list. It was fairly basic; Bronte, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Faulkner. I had already read everything which was comforting. I could just use the essays I had previously written, maybe change them up a bit to suit my current level of writing. It was hard to think with Mr Turner’s teaching style. His voice was excessively loud and he was overdramatic considering he was just calling the roll. It was effective though. No one made a sound and everyone listened; they probably couldn’t hear anything over his voice anyway. 

The bell rang to announce the end of class and a girl with long, bleached-blond stopped in front of my desk. 

“You’re Daniel Howell, right?” she looked like the overly friendly nerd type; a gamer or maybe a cosplay enthusiast. 

“Dan,” I corrected. Everyone turned to stare at me. 

“Where’s your next class?” she asked. 

I checked my schedule. “Uh, Legal, with Mr. Johnson. It’s in L5.”

Great; now everyone was staring.

“I’m headed to Home Ec. I’m working on my next cosplay. It’s on the way.” I knew it. “I can show you where it is. I’m Mary by the way. Mary Thomson”

I smiled awkwardly. “Thanks. That would be great.”

She grinned and motioned for me to follow her. “So, Sporks is a lot different from Arizona, huh?”

“Very much so.”

“Doesn’t rain much there, does it?”

“Maybe a few times a year if we’re lucky.”

“Wow. What’s that like?’

“Sunny,” I told her.

“You don’t look very tan.” 

“I’m part albino.”

She stared blankly at me. Obviously he didn’t understand my sense of humour. A few more months here and I’d forget what sarcasm was. 

L5 wasn’t that far away and I easily could have found it myself, but I was grateful for her help. 

“Thanks for that,” I said, unsure of what else to say.

“It’s fine,” She grinned. “Good luck. Maybe we will have another class together.” She sounded hopeful. 

I smiled awkwardly at her and entered the room. 

The rest of the morning was about the same. Nothing really special happened. My Trigonometry teacher, Mr Pepper, whom I would have hated solely because of the subject he taught, forced me to introduce myself to the class. I muttered a few things about myself and he asked me to sit down. As I made my way to the back of the room I felt something hit me on the butt, and I turned around to see Mr Pepper grinning at me. I rushed to the back, tripping over my own feet in the process. 

After a few classes I started to recognise a few familiar faces; that was to be expected in such a small school. There was always that one person who was braver than the rest who asked me questions about my life and how I liked Sporks so far. I didn’t have to lie that much; at least it wasn’t scorching like Arizona. 

There was one guy who sat next to me in Trig who decided to walk me to the cafeteria. He was lightly shorter than I was with a mop of thick, dark hair, glasses and a beard that would put a lumberjack to shame. I couldn’t quite remember his name, so I smiled and nodded along as he ranted about classes and teachers. 

We sat at a table full of his friends. He introduced me to all of them but I forgot their names almost instantly. They seemed impressed that he had befriended me. I saw Mary, the girl from earlier, wave at me from across the cafeteria. 

It was then, when I was sitting and trying to make conversation with my newfound friends, that I saw them for the first time. 

They were sitting in the very back corner of the room, as far away from me as possible. There were five of them, not talking, staring around the room as they let left their trays of food untouched. It was easy to stare at them without the fear of meeting their eyes as they, unlike most people I had met that day, were not gawking at me like I was some prized freak in a traveling circus. It wasn’t that, though, that caught and held my attention.

None of them looked anything alike. There were four boys at the table- One had a bowl of light brown hair and slight stubble. Another was slightly muscular with a light tan and perfectly styled chocolate hair. The third was big- Muscled, like he lifted some serious weights. He was wearing something quite odd – a circular, white mask with a plain face drawn on in what looked like sharpie. The last looked almost child-like. He had a thin, innocent face and jet black hair. He was tall, although not as tall as I was, and lanky. The only girl in the group was slight and had long, brown hair with purple streaks which flowed around her. 

Even though their features were different, they were eerily similar. They all had skin like chalk, the palest students in living in this rainy town- even paler than me, the ‘albino’. They all had dark eyes, despite their range of hair colours. They also had shadows under their eyes, like they had never gotten a good night’s sleep or were recovering from a broken nose, though their noses, like all their features, were perfect. 

This, still, was not why I couldn’t look away.

I stared because their faces, so different, so similar, were all devastatingly, inhumanly beautiful. Theirs were the kind of faces you would expect to see on the pages of magazines or on some stupid reality show like Jersey Shore, not in some small town high school. It was hard to say who was the most beautiful of the group, but I decided that it was the black-haired boy. 

They were all looking away- away from each other, away from the other students in the hall, away from anything in particular- yet they all seemed deep in thought. I watched as the girl rose with her tray- unopened soda, unbitten apple, untouched sandwich- and walked away with an air of grace that I would usually associate with a dancer. She walked over to the bin and dumped the contents of her tray into it and exited the cafeteria with a speed that I thought possible. My gaze wandered back to the others, who sat perfectly still, like statues. 

“Who are they?” I asked the boy from my Legal Studies class whose name I’d forgotten. 

He looked up to see who I was referring to –though probably already knowing from my tone- when he suddenly looked at him, the boyish one, the youngest, perhaps. He looked at him for a moment before his gaze flicked to mine. 

He looked away almost instantly, more quickly than I could. I flushed and dropped my gaze. In that brief flash of a glance, his face held nothing of interest — it was as if he had called his name, and he'd looked up in involuntary response, already having decided not to answer. When his gaze had shifted to mine, I thought I saw the briefest flicker of something cross his face.

The boy next to me chuckled in embarrassment and looked over at the table. 

“That’s Phil Lester, Ian Hecox, Anthony Padilla and Cry Bisognin. The girl that just left was Minx Kjellberg. They’re Dr Kjellberg’s kids. He looks after them with his wife, Ms Bisognin,” He whispered under his breath, as if they could hear him from their seats across the room. 

I glanced at the black-haired boy out of the corner of my eye. He was picking appear a muffin with his long, pale fingers. His mouth moved very quickly, his lips barely opening. The others still looked away, although I felt as if he was speaking quietly to them. 

Strange names, I thought. I remembered the the boy next to me was named Mark. A common name. There were two guys named Mark in my Maths class back home. 

“They’re really attractive,” I blurted out before realising what I had said. 

“They are!” Mark agreed with me. “They are all together though- Ian and Anthony, Cry and Minx, I mean. They live together too!” He sounded shocked and his voice held a disapproving tone. 

“Wait, they’re together? Like dating? I thought you said they were related,” I looked at him, my inner horror and disgust clearly displayed on my face. 

“They’re not. Dr Kjellberg is really young, like in his late twenties. They’re all adopted. Ian and Cry are brothers, though, and they’re foster children.”

“They look a little old to be foster children.”

“They are now. They’re 17 and 18. They’ve been with Ms Bisognin since they were little. She’s their aunt or something.”

“That’s nice for them to take care of all those kids, when they’re so young and all. Still a little weird that they’re dating each other though.”

“Yeah I guess.” With the glances he threw at they’re children and the critical tone he used when talking about them, I got the impression he wasn’t too fond of the doctor and his wife. “I don’t think that Ms Bisognin can have kids though,” He added, as if that lessened their kindness. 

Throughout the conversation, my gaze was always drawn back to the strangely beautiful siblings. None of them had moved and they all continued to stare at nothing and not eat. 

“Have they always lived in Sporks?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. 

“No,” He stated in a tone that implied that it should have been obvious. “They moved here about two years ago from up North or something. 

I felt a pang of pity. As beautiful as they were, they were outsiders, like me.

I looked over again only to find the raven-haired boy looking at me. This time, confusion and curiosity was plain on his face. As I looked swiftly away, it seemed to me that his glance held some kind of unmet expectation. 

“Which is the one with the black hair?” I asked. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye and found that he was still staring at me, but he wasn’t gawking like the other students had- he had a slightly frustrated expression, like he was losing an argument with an idiot solely because of their stubborn ignorance. 

“That’s Phil. Don’t waste your time with him: he doesn’t date. Apparently no one here is good enough for him,” He sniffed, clearly bitter. 

“Wait, you’re gay?” I asked. Despite the bright pink hair, I hadn’t really thought of the prospect that Mark could have been gay. 

“Yeah, most people here are; for the convenience of the plot, of course.”

“Oh.” That explained why he was bitter about Phil not dating. I wondered when he had turned Mark down. 

A few minutes later, the four remaining siblings left the table with an inhuman grace- even the brawny one. It was unsettling to watch. The raven-haired one, Phil, didn’t look at me again.  
I sat with Mark and his friends longer than I would have if I had been sitting alone. I was quite anxious about being late to class and would have left earlier if not for them. The boy from my Trig class, who kindly reminded me that his name was Ken, had Biology with me in the next hour. We walked together in a comfortable silence.

When we entered the classroom, Ken went to sit at a lab table. He already had a neighbour; in fact, every table was full except for one. Towards the center aisle, I recognised the raven-haired boy, Phil Lester, sitting next to the only available seat. 

As I walked towards the teacher’s desk to introduce myself and get my slip signed, I watched hi, out of the corner of my eye. As I passed him, he suddenly went ridged in his seat. He met my eyes, the most peculiar expression crossing his face- It was hostile and furious yet dumbfounded. I looked away- frankly his expression terrified me. In my haste to cross the room and to get out of the path of his gaze, I tripped over one of my classmates bags and fell straight at the teacher’s feet. I slowly rose, absolutely mortified and handed the teacher my slip. He signed it with no nonsense about introductions and he sent me to my new seat; right next to Phil. I kept my eyes down as I made my way across the room and sat down, still bewildered by the death stare he had given me. 

I didn’t look up as I opened my book and started taking notes. I took an opportunity to glance at him and I saw that his posture had changed drastically. He was leaning away, sitting at the edge of his chair and averting his face as if he smelled something bad. I know it wasn’t me; I’d just showered that morning. 

I tried to pay attention but the lecture was on cellular anatomy, something I had already studied. I started doodling on my page, always looking down. 

I couldn’t help peeking at him carefully, afraid that if I wasn’t careful he’d snap and rip my dick off. You wouldn’t mind him ripping your dick off so long as he touched it, a voice in my head whispered. I banished the thought. I mean, who would want him to touch their dick with his long, pale fingers. Wrapping securely around and wanking him… 

I shook my head to rid it of these traitorous thoughts. I looked up to see the teacher and the majority of the class staring at me like I was some sort of alien creature. I realised I must have shaken my head a little too vigorously. A deep red blush crept up my neck and I dropped my head and pretended to write notes in my book, hoping that they’d stop staring at me. 

He never relaxed from his stiff position, sitting as far away from me as the chair would allow. His hand was clenched in a fist on his upper leg, tendons standing out under his pale skin. The sleeves on his sweater were pushed up to his elbow, exposing his surprisingly muscular arms. He was still scrawny and lanky compared to his burly brother, but he was better built than I had imagined… Not -not that I had imagined his build…

The class seemed to drag on longer than the others. I wasn’t sure whether it was because the day was coming to a close or if I was just waiting for his fist to loosen. It never did; he continued to sit so still it looked as if he wasn’t breathing. Was this normal for him?

I peeked at him again, and instantly regretted it. He was glaring at me again, his eyes filled with revulsion. I shrank back into my chair. If looks could kill…

The bell cut through the silence like a knife through soft butter, which made me jump. In a matter of seconds, Phil had packed his stuff in his bag and was out of the classroom before anyone had gotten out of their seat. 

I sat frozen in my seat, staring blankly at the doorway where he had just been. I started to slowly gather my things while trying to process what had happened this last hour. 

“Hey, you’re Daniel Howell, right?” An obnoxiously loud voice asked.

I looked up to see boy with green hair, blue eyes and a welcoming grin. I’d seen him when sitting with Mark and his group. If I remembered correctly his name was Sean. His thick, Irish accent made him memorable.

“Hey, uh, it’s Sean, right?” I asked. His grin widened.

“You remembered. No one calls me Sean though, I prefer Jack.” 

“Um, ok Jack. What’s up?”

“I was just wondering if you needed help finding your next class.”

“No thanks,” I mumbled. “The gym is the biggest building. I don’t think I’ll need any help.”

“You have gym?” He asked excitedly. “I have gym too!” He grabbed me by my arm despite my many protests and dragged me towards the gym. 

I’ve never been the best at sport. Usually teachers force me to play and then make me sit out when they realise what a terrible mistake they’ve made. I don’t really mind. It gives me a chance to catch up on my anime. I’m really bad when it comes to watching an anime I like. I get so invested in it I completely forget about the others I was watching and it takes me forever to catch up. 

This particular teacher was like something from my worst nightmares. Standing over 6ft tall and sharing the body type of a large gorilla, Ms Hymen was a loud, er, woman- I think- who looked as though she should be in a professional wrestling arena and not this small town high school. She demanded that I participate in dodgeball, much to the dismay of the other students. By the end of the class I had injured several of my classmates, sent a girl home crying with a black eye, and had multiple bruises of my own. Needless to say Ms Hymen wasn’t happy with my performance. 

Jack came up to me after class, his trademark grin still plastered on his face. “What did you do to Lester? He looks at you like you killed his dog or something.” So that wasn’t his normal behaviour. And here I was, thinking that he was just awkward and bitter. I decided it was best if I played dumb. 

“Was that the weird guy from Biology?” I asked. 

“Yeah, he looked like he was in pain.”

“I never even spoke to him so I wouldn’t know.” Jack followed me into the change rooms, making me slightly uncomfortable. 

“He’s really strange. If I were lucky to sit next to you I would have talked to you.” He winked at me and I hurriedly leapt into a stall.

The final bell rang and I made my way to the main office to hand in my paperwork. I unfortunately made the same mistake that I had made this morning and I entered the room rubbing my forehead. 

I looked up to see Phil Lester staring at me, obviously not as amused as the receptionist by my failed entrance. Jack was right; he does look like he’s in pain. 

He turned back to the receptionist, his jaw set in determination. He started arguing with her in a low voice, although not low enough as to prevent me from hearing. He wanted to trade Biology for another class- any other class. I couldn’t help but feel that it was because of me. 

He turned on his heel and stormed out of the office, his eyes set dead in front of him. I meekly walked up to the receptionist, gave her the paperwork and made my way back to the drug bus. It was almost the only car in the lot. I opened the door and collapsed onto the seat, exhaling sharply. I sat there, slumped in the seat for a while, staring out the windshield as it started to rain lightly. I finally decided to leave when the last car pulled out of the lot and I slowly made my way back to Tyler’s house, the piercing stare of Phil Lester penetrating my thoughts the whole drive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, you actually made it through this chapter huh? Congratulations. Just click next chapter, if you will.


	2. Howell's Guide to Getting Bitches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY!! I didn't know anyone actually read this. I started writing again a few months ago so I have a couple of chapters I need to get edited (cough cough, FEARMINT YOU LAZY ASSHAT).
> 
> I hope you enjoy the latest installment of Twidark and I will try to post chapters more frequently.
> 
> Have another dose of crazy, my dudes!
> 
> -GenghisKanye

It wasn’t raining as much, which was the first sign something suspicious was going on today. Even so, it was nice, I thought I’d never be free of the eternal shower that Sporks first offered me. It was easier now since I knew what to expect and I started getting the hang of this small school. I even had a small group of friends to call my own, which was amazing. At this rate, the probability of the earth imploding was imminent. 

Mr Pepper called on me during Trig when I was spacing out. I ended up flushing bright red as I stumbled over some bullshit answer. and I saw a subtle bulge emerge in his tight pants. Ms Hymen made me play Volleyhell with the rest of the class, despite their many protests. Every time it was my turn to serve I’d manage to hit myself in the face.

To top things all off on a day of overall suspiciousness and typical bad luck, Phil Lester wasn’t in Biology. Either he got his wish to change subjects or he was avoiding me.  
When I walked into the cafeteria with Mark, my eyes scanned the cafeteria for him before I caught myself. What was I doing? Why should it matter if he hates me? All that ‘fuck the haters’ jazz and all, I shouldn’t give a flying fuck what Phil thinks. I sighed and forlornly looked over at his usual table one more time, I was getting worse at lying to myself. Despite his absence, his ‘siblings’ were all there, perfectly still, like statues. I slumped down into my chair and ate my lunch in silence as the others talked amongst themselves. 

I walked to Biology with Jack bouncing happily at my side. He was babbling about something about a beach trip but I wasn’t really paying attention -I wasn’t even aware there was anything that qualified as a ‘beach’ near Sporks. He lingered at my desk until class started and I was left alone. All through the lesson I couldn’t help but take small glances at the empty seat beside me, the memory of his look of utter hatred and confusion still stung in the back of my mind. I tried to tell myself that it was a good thing he was absent, it meant extra leg room for me (and god knows I need it), but I couldn’t shake the nagging suspicion that I was the reason he didn’t come today. It was stupid, I know, but he seemed to hate me so much you can’t really blame me for thinking that. 

When the day was over I grabbed my bag and practically tripped over several other students in my haste to leave. I made my way to my drug bus before the crowd of students flooded out the doors and pulled out of the parking lot. 

When I arrived home Tyler was lounging on the couch watching some typical rom-com. You know, boy meets girl, boy and girl fall in love, some tragic drama, boy and girl break up, one of the two make a grand gesture and they live happily ever after. I watched for a while out of morbid curiosity of Hollywood’s twisted romance ideals but as the star-crossed pair began getting frisky I got out of there, fast. As I hurriedly made my way to the kitchen I heard Tyler laughing manically at my quick escape. I started making dinner for us, generic meat and vegetables, nothing special. 

I left Tyler in charge of the meal and I headed up to my room to start on my homework. I didn’t get far though because honestly, who was I kidding. In a fit of procrastination, I opened up realmail on my laptop and five other unholy tabs with god knows what from the last time I logged on. There were three new unread’s from Dad.

 

To: danisnotonfire@realmail.com  
From: troyeboi@realmail.com  
Subject: Spork you later  
Dan,  
Email me as soon as you get in. How was your flight? Is it raining there? Is Tyler treating you well? We miss you. Have you by any chance seen my favourite sweater? Joey says hi.  
Troye.

 

To: danisnotonfire@realmail.com  
From: troyeboi@realmail.com  
Subject: I’m Mr Lonely  
Dan,  
Why haven’t you emailed me? Am I not good enough for you?  
Troye.

 

To: danisnotonfire@realmail.com  
From: troyeboi@realmail.com  
Subject: try me  
Dan,  
If I haven’t heard from you by 6pm I’m assuming you’ve died and I’ll sell ALL YOUR OLD VIDEO GAMES!  
Troye.

 

That monster. 

 

To: troyeboi@realmail.com  
From: danisnotonfire@realmail.com  
Subject: Re: try me  
D(isgusting)ad,  
I’m very much alive. DON’T TOUCH MY GAMES!  
Dan.

 

To: troyeboi@realmail.com  
From: danisnotonfire@realmail.com  
Subject: Re: Spork you later  
Dad,  
My flight was ok. I sat next to a crying baby which is always fun. Tyler is treating me well except he can’t cook for shit. When he attempted to make pancakes he almost burned the house down. Of course it’s raining; it’s England.  
Your sweater is in the dryer. You put in in there the day I left.  
Tyler found me a car- well more of a rusty, old, hippie van but it has wheels and it moves, so…  
I miss you too.  
Dan.

 

I closed my emails and opened a new incognito tab. I logged into fanfiction.net and started reading one of the Free! fanfictions, not that I really need one -god those swimmers are so into each other, just fuck already. I was so absorbed in it I lost track of time. Before I knew it the fire alarm was going off and thick, black smoke wafted up the staircase. I raced down to the kitchen, and was confronted by the sight of Tyler battling a steadily growing pan-flame and using the lid as a shield. I fought the urge to scream as I looked around the room for something to help put out the fire. Just as I had given up hope and was about to run from the house with my arms flailing, Tyler dumped a glass of water into the pan. A loud hiss rang throughout the room as the fire quickly subsided and I sighed in relief. Tyler started laughing hysterically, as if he thought this whole ordeal was absolutely hilarious. I rolled my eyes and stalked to the counter where our landline, a rare and historic relic, was. I punched in the number for McDonalds and placed an order for a delivery. Looks like we will be having takeout for a while. 

We ate in silence, Tyler occasionally stifling a giggle.

“Soooooo, how was school?” Tyler asked.

“It’s fine,” I mumbled into my food.

“Have you got any friends or is this a repeat of your old school?”

I looked up and glared at him. “I have friends. That’s more than you can say.”

He giggled again, seemingly amused by my shade. “What are their names?”

“Well there’s this guy Mark and there’s Ken. I have a few classes with them and I sit with them at lunch. And there’s this guy Sean- er, uh- Jack. He’s really friendly and, well, loud.”

“That must be Jack Septiceye. His dad owns the camping store. Fair prices for the locals but he rips off the tourists. I would turn him in but he gives me a discount on my fishing gear so I’m not complaining.”

“Cheap bastard,” I smirked. “Hey, do you by any chance know the, uh, I don’t know which last name to use but Dr Kjellberg’s kids.” 

“Oh yeah, yeah. I know them. Dr Kjellberg’s is a good man. Weird but good. They moved here recently from up north. Why do you ask?” 

I blushed without really knowing why. “I saw them in school today. They’re, uh, a bit odd.” 

Tyler scowled and dropped his fork. “Dr Kjellberg is an asset to this town. We’re lucky to have him and his wife here. He’s a brilliant surgeon. He could make ten, maybe twenty times the amount of money he makes here in practically any other hospital. His kids are good, never had any trouble with them. More than I can say for some of the other kids in this town. They stick together -have camping trips every few weekends. Just because they're newcomers, people have to talk."

I sat there, shocked at Tyler’s outburst. The last time he’d given me a speech that long was when I made fun of how cringey his first YouTube video was. 

“I -They seem lovely!” I stuttered. “I just noticed that they were fairly introverted.”  
“They’re very attractive,” I blurted out without thinking.

Tyler’s expression eased and he picked up his previously discarded fork. “If you think they’re something, you should see the doctor,” he smirked. “If he weren’t married…” he trailed off, chuckling to himself. 

Tyler finished his meal and skipped out of the room. I followed him out of the room and tripped upstairs. The day’s events had left me both physically and emotionally exhausted. I flopped down on my bed and tried to fall asleep, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the empty seat next to me in biology and the strange boy that had sat there the day before. The thoughts swirled around in my head for hours until I finally fell asleep in the early hours of the morning. 

A week passed and there was still no sign of the raven haired boy. Every Biology lesson I had waited for him, hoping that today would be the day he finally showed up. I couldn’t help but wonder if he would get in trouble for taking so many days off school. Part of me hoped he would. 

I was greeted every morning by various students whose names I had yet to learn. In gym, my classmates had learned not to pass me the ball the hard way. Thankfully I only sent one student home, poor girl. 

Friday came and went with no sign of Phil Lester. At lunch I couldn’t help but sneak a peek at his usual table as I entered the cafeteria. His clique was there, but I found myself saddened that he wasn’t. I stood off to the side of the room until Jack found me and steered me off to his table, where Mark and Ken sat waiting. Mark’s face lit up when he saw Jack and I made a mental note not to seem at all flirty with him while Mark was there. I listened as Jack enthusiastically told us about his plans to go to the beach at La Pull soon. I was invited and I politely accepted. I didn’t really want to go that much but the promise of a hot, dry beach was too inviting. 

My first weekend in Sporks was as uneventful as I had hoped the previous week would have been. Tyler worked most of the weekend, but I spent a few hours on Saturday hanging around the precinct bothering him. I promised myself that I was going to clean the house and get a head start on my homework but who was I kidding. I spent my weekend binge watching Free!, again. The weather remained consistent all weekend -light rain, although I didn’t expect anything else. 

By Monday morning the rain had stopped but it was colder than it had been the past week. In English, Jack sat beside me, chattering on about videogames while I listened politely. We had a pop quiz on Wuthering Heights which, although I was positive I had aced, I was still anxious about. 

Jack was walking with me to the cafeteria when the first specks of snow started to fall. Jack stopped and looked up at the white powder, grinning. 

“Ew,” I said and pulled up the hood of my jacket. 

Jack looked at me, puzzled. “You don’t like snow?” he asked. 

“Not really,” I replied. “It’s too cold and it reminds me of cocaine.” 

Jack laughed. “You’d better get used to it, ‘cause-” he was cut off mid-sentence by a wad of tightly packed white mush hitting him square in the face. I stifled a giggle as his head whipped around to find the snow-sniper. I looked around too, to find Mary standing nonchalantly by a building, head down but her eyes flicking up to look at Jack every few seconds. Jack must have seen Mary’s suspicious behaviour too because he bent down, retrieved a fist-full of snow and flung it straight at her. The cold mush went straight down the neck of her shirt and settled between her, er, large breasts.

Without needing to be told anything I moved out of the way as their fight commenced. I was greeted at the door of the cafeteria by Mark and we entered together. As per usual my eyes flicked up to the table at which the Kjellbergs sat and my breath hitched in my throat.

“Hey, Dan? You okay?” Mark asked, clearly concerned. 

“Mhm, fine. Just feeling a little, er, sick.” I sat down at our usual table and waited with Ken for Mark to get his food. Jack and Mary entered, wet with snow, flushed and laughing, and sat down. I noticed Ken’s blush as he looked at Mary. Yet another person I must avoid being remotely flirty with. 

Mark came back with enough food for everyone and the group started chatting pleasantly amongst themselves. I chose not to engage in conversation, instead spending my time awkwardly staring at the Kjellbergs. They were all laughing and covered in snow, their hair glistening wetly in the dull light of the cafeteria. There, sat amongst his brothers and sister, was Phil Lester.

There was something unusual about him. He looked less pale, but that was probably to do with the intense snow fight he must have just had. I attributed the abnormality to his pleasant mood, for lack of a better explanation. 

“Hey, Dan. What’re you staring at?” Mark asked, snapping me out of my daze. Just at that moment, Phil looked up at us. 

I ducked my head down. “Nothing,” I mumbled. Phil had exchanged his initial hostile expression for a curious one.

“Lester’s staring at you,” Mark giggled.

“Does he look angry? Or like he wants to rip my dick off?” I whispered.

“No. Should he?” 

“I guess not. It’s just… I don’t think he likes me very much,” I told him. 

“Well it doesn’t look that way from the way he’s looking at you.”

I turned my head to look at Mark. “Stop staring at him,” I hissed.

Mark giggled and continued to stare at Phil. “Yep, Lester is definitely staring at you,” he said, moving his head a bit to test his theory. 

“For the love of god stop staring or I will castrate you with a pair of rusty scissors.”

My threat must have worked because Mark giggled and turned to Jack, who was giving Ken a play-by-play of his ‘epic’ snowball fight with Mary. 

The bell rang and I got up from our table and walked with Jack to Biology. I kept my hood up and a textbook out as a shield so the snowball-snipers that were targeting Jack didn’t hit me by accident.

We made it to class without an incident -well a major incident. Let’s just say that an unlucky sniper won’t be able to throw any snowballs for a little while. As I entered the classroom I shook out my wet hair and started towards my desk. I stopped in my tracks when I was Phil in his seat. I cautiously walked to my seat and sat down. I took out my books and looked up to find him staring at me curiously, like someone would stare at a monkey in a zoo. 

“Hello,” he said cheerfully. His melodic voice had me taken by surprise. I gawked at him, desperately grasping for something to say.

His smile faltered slightly but he continued nevertheless. “I’m Phil Lester. I didn’t have a chance to introduce myself the other day. You must be Dan Howell.”  
“How -how did you know my name?” 

He giggled cutely, his fringe falling over his face. “Everyone knows your name. The whole town has been waiting for you to get here.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” I tried to explain. “How did you know I go by Dan? Tyler, er, I mean my dad must call me Daniel behind my back because that’s what everyone else called me when I first got here.”

“Oh,” he looked flustered and I was thankful when our teacher, Mr Grade started the lesson.

“Alright class, today we’re looking at onion roots with a microscope,” Mr Grade exclaimed in his thick, cockney accent. “The slides are out of order in the box, so, working in your partner groups you must separate the slides of onion root tip cells into the phase of mitosis they represent and label them accordingly. In short, sort out the science-y shit. And don’t look at your textbooks. Yes, Mr McLoughlin, I do see that book under your desk.”

The whole class looked around to see Jack taking his textbook off his lap and placing it in his bag. I smiled and turned back to our microscope to see Phil covering his mouth with his sleeve to stifle a giggle. 

“Well since you’re so focused why don’t you start,” I taunted him. He looked up in surprise and his face broke out into an adorable crooked smile. 

“No, no. I wouldn’t begrudge you off the opportunity to show off,” he teased back.  
I screwed up my face but started nonetheless. In truth, I was showing off. I'd already done this experiment back in Arizona, so I knew what I was looking for. 

I snapped the first slide into place under the microscope and adjusted it quickly to the 40X objective. I took a fleeting look and immediately recognised the phase.

"Prophase," I said rather cockily.

Phil raised his eyebrows in disbelief and I slid the microscope over to him. He moved to take it and the tips of his fingers brushed the backside of my hand. I pulled back in shock. His hand felt like ice. It was as if someone had left him outside in the snow in his underwear. 

I took a moment to ponder the visual before snapping back to reality. I looked up at him and caught his eye. He immediately dropped his gaze and reached for the microscope, knocking it over in the process. 

“Shoot,” he muttered as he reached to pick it up. He examined the slide and agreed with my observation. He swapped the first slide out and inspected the second.  
"Anaphase," he murmured, writing it down as he spoke.

"May I?" I asked.

He grinned and pushed the microscope to me. “Sure princess.”

“Princess, Really?” I asked, exasperatedly. He looked up and grinned at me.

I looked through the eyepiece eagerly, desperate to prove him wrong. Fuck, he was right. 

I needed to step up my game. 

"Slide three?" I rooted through the box only to find that Phil held the slide in his hand.  
He dropped it into my hand. No skin contact, I noted. Seemed like he was taking precautions not to touch my skin again. 

I changed the slide and looked into the lens. My eye barely touched the eyepiece when I had come to a conclusion.

"Interphase." I passed him the microscope before he could ask for it. He took a swift peek, and then wrote it down, his clumsy scrawl dominating the analysis table.  
It seemed that our competitive natures had led to us finishing before any of the other groups.

“Hmm,” I sighed. “I’m used to being the first finished but this is ridiculous.”

Phil snorted and I realised the accidental innuendo I had made. I looked at him, ready to scold him for taking my words the wrong way and I found him staring intently at me with that same look of curiosity in his eyes. His deep, blue eyes. Then it hit me, that subtle difference that I had attributed to him being happy for once. 

“Are you wearing contacts?” I asked unthinkingly. 

“Yeah, why?” his brows knitted together in confusion. 

“Oh, I thought there was something different about your eyes. You’re wearing blue contacts.”

“No, my contacts aren’t coloured.” He turned away and started doodling on his book.  
He has to be wearing contacts, I thought. I remembered his eyes being dark. So dark, in fact, that I found myself comparing them to a storm at sea. Now they were so blue I felt like I could drown in them.

I looked over at him and found that he was as tense as the first day I saw him. I couldn’t help but wonder how my simple question could make his mood shift so drastically. 

Mr Grade came over to our desk and congratulated us on our efforts, snapping me out of my daze. He took our microscope and slides away and settled himself at a different desk to assist two students whose names I had yet to learn. 

I stared wistfully out the window, and the swirling vortex of snow. I watched as in the span of a few minutes the snow turned into rain. I sighed happily and leaned back in my chair.

“You don’t like the snow?” The question took me by surprise and I almost fell off the chair. 

“No. Or the wet really.”

He snorted. “England must be fun then.”

I rolled my eyes and resettled myself on my chair. 

“Why did you come here if you don’t like the weather?” In my week of staying here, no one had asked me that. At least not outright like he had. 

“It’s, er, complicated.”

“I think my puny brain can keep up with yours, princess,” he teased.

I took a moment to collect my thoughts. “My dad got remarried.”

He looked puzzled. “I didn’t know officer Oakley got remarried.”

“No, my other dad,” I explained. He nodded understandingly.

“You don’t like your dad’s new, er, husband?” he asked.

“No, Joey’s fine. It’s just, their night time activities get a little, er, loud,” I said, awkwardly. 

“Do they, um, you know, a lot?” He asked, blushing a little.

“Like rabbits,” I complained. He smiled apologetically. 

“Still,” he said. “that isn’t really that good of a reason to leave.”

“Well dad and Joey are busy with their careers.”

“What do they do?” he asked.

“They’re youtubers.”

“A lot of people here are.”

“Are you?” I asked.

“Yeah, you?”

I nodded. “I don’t upload much though. I should probably upload more.”

He smiled. “I don’t upload as much as I should either.”

“Yeah, so I sent myself here to live with Tyler.”

He nodded in understanding. “But you don’t seem happy here.” 

“So?” I raised my eyebrows.

He shrugged. “Just doesn’t seem that fair.”

I snorted. “Life’s not fair. You get one shot then you die. One wrong decision can fuck everything up.” I started to panic. No, you will not have an existential crisis in front of the cute boy. 

“That’s a bit pessimistic.”

I rolled my eyes and turned my head to the front of the room where Mr Grade was arguing with Jack as to whether the slide they were looking at was prophase or interphase.

“Am I annoying you?” he asked. I could hear the smile in his voice. 

“Yes but I’m more annoyed at myself.” He looked confused so I continued. “My face is so easy to read.”

“On the contrary, I find you very difficult to read.”

“You mustn’t be very good at reading then.”

“I usually am.” He grinned.

I sighed and started tapping my pen absentmindedly. 

“So that’s it. You’ve heard my life story.”

“Nice. Bet you get all the guys with that.”

I snorted. “Yeah, I call it ‘Howell’s Guide to Getting Bitches’.” He smiled. 

We both turned back to where Mr Grade’s patience with Jack was wearing thin. Luckily for him, the bell rang before he could get in trouble and Jack started to skip towards be, obviously very pleased with himself. I glanced over at Phil to find his seat empty. I pushed away the disappointment building up within me and turned to Jack, who had picked up my books and bag for me. 

“That was so hard!” Jack exclaimed. “They all looked exactly the freaking same. You’re lucky you had Lester as your partner.”

“Actually I identified more of them than he did,” I said smugly as I wrestled my bag away from him. “I’ve done this experiment before, though,” I added before I bruised his ego too much.

“Lester seemed friendly today,” Jack commented suspiciously as we walked out of the building. “You didn’t drug him, did you?”

I snorted. “Yeah, I drugged him with my whole supply of Heroin. Stuck him with the needle right in the middle of class.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Shut it. You know what I meant.”

We made a dash for the Gym, desperately trying to avoid getting soaked with rain. Jack was on my team for Volleyball today considerately attempting to cover my position as well as his own. 

The rain had eased considerably as I ran to my drug bus. Once inside, I turned on the heater and started the engine. I backed out of my parking space and started to drive out of the lot when I saw him, still as a statue and pale enough to match. Phil was leaning against the shiny silver Volvo I saw on my first day. I tore my gaze away from him just in time to swerve around a smaller car. I looked back and I swear to god that fucker was laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, you actually made it through this chapter huh? Congratulations. Just click next chapter, if you will.


	3. Philnomenon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again. 'Tis I, GenghisKanye. Felt like uploading the next chapter so I did. Hope you all enjoy it :)
> 
> Also, as a little self-promo, go follow me on Tumblr @gengiskanye-of-the-west
> 
> -GenghisKanye

I awoke that morning to find that yesterday’s rain and transformed Sporks into a veritable winter wonderland. Just my fucking luck. 

Snow covered the ground like cocaine in a crack den and the road was slick with ice. Great, I had enough trouble not falling down when the ground was dry.

Tyler, being the sheriff of sporks, had already left for work. I felt sorry for him; getting up early on a day like that must have been a nightmare.

I toasted a couple of pop tarts and headed out. For once in my life, I wasn’t dreading school. It wasn’t the thrill of learning or the anticipation of seeing my new friends that had me hating it less, but the promise of seeing Phil Lester. It was stupid, I know. I felt like a giggling Japanese schoolgirl, minus the skirt and massive boobs. 

“Oh Phil-senpai,” I giggled in my best Schoolgirl accent as I slid into my van. I chuckled to myself and started the car. It took all my concentration to not lose control of my drug bus and spin into the forest but I somehow made it to school without a scratch. 

When I arrived at school, I pulled into a parking space and cut the engine. I gathered my books and my bag and started towards the nearest building to take shelter from the wind. I glanced over at the opposite end of the parking lot and saw Phil, leaning against his Volvo, watching me. I looked away hurriedly; I hoped he couldn’t see my blush from there. I made it door of the building before the frosty bite of the wind reminded me that I had left my jacket in the van. 

“Shit,” I mumbled as I turned back to retrieve it. I had just reached the back of my van when I dropped my textbooks.

“Just my fucking luck,” I mumbled as I bent to pick them up. I heard a loud screech. I looked up to see a rather large pickup heading straight towards me, a very panicked looking boy at the wheel. I froze, unable to get out of the way of the vehicle. I accepted that this is how I die, on my knees in a crowded parking lot. 

I closed my eyes and waited for the impact that would snap my spine. I felt my head snap back into my van and I fell straight on my ass, not the impact I was expecting. I opened my eyes and found myself face-to-face with a nicely rounded butt. I slowly looked up to see a skinny frame, pasty skin and raven hair. I fell back on my hands and took in my surroundings. Right in front of Phil was the same pickup truck that had been on a collision course with my spine, only it had a deep dent in the driver’s side door. Filling that dent, was Phil’s pale fist, the very same one I’d imagined earlier…

I cursed myself. I almost die and I’m fantasising about Lester’s fist. I looked up at him to find that he was staring at me, a mix of relief and sheer rage painted on his face. 

“Err, hi,” I said with an awkward smile. “If you don’t mind me asking, how’d you do that. Last time I checked people don’t stop speeding pickups with their fists.” No matter how glorious said fist is. 

“What are you talking about? I didn’t stop it. I pushed you out of the way.” He said, a quizzical expression passing over his face. 

“No, you definitely stopped it. Wait, you were over there,” I pointed at his Volvo on the other side of the lot.

“Dan I was standing right next to you. You must have a concussion.”

“Don’t patronise me,” I muttered. “I don’t have a concussion. I’m perfectly- “

“Someone call an ambulance,” he yelled at the steadily growing crowd.

“I don’t need an ambulance!” My patience was wearing thin. 

“No,” a girl from the crowd piped up, “but he does.” She pointed at the driver of the pickup.

My eyes widened and I saw what she meant. The driver was a boy about my age and saying he was beat up was an understatement. He had cuts and bruised peppering his head neck and arms and he seemed to be unconscious. Speaking of arms, his left was bent at an unseemly angle. My mouth dropped open in a silent scream. Thankfully, an ambulance arrived within minutes. The boy was taken first, his unconscious body hauled into the ambulance and swiftly driven away. I listened until the sounds of the blaring siren faded away. I wish I could say my thoughts were with that poor boy, but then I’d be lying. I couldn’t help but wonder just how Phil stopped that pickup.

The sounds of a new siren cut through by thoughts as a police car drove swiftly up beside me. Tyler got out and started fussing over me.

“Oh god, Danny! My baby! Who did this?” He glared around the crowd accusingly. 

“Tyler, I’m fine. The guy is at the hospital,” I quickly told him. 

“Oh, hospital! I’m supposed to take you to the hospital,” he said as he tried to lift me to the car, failing miserably. 

“Tyler!” I yelled. “I’m fine. I don’t need to go to the hospital.” Tyler shook his head and tried to lift me again. 

“Allow me,” a soft voice murmured next to me. Tyler’s unrelenting worrying had made me forget about Phil. His strong arms lifted me from the ground, surprising me. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I weighed a lot but with his scrawny arms I didn’t think he was capable of lifting anything more than a small dog. 

“P -Put me down,” I stammered. 

I heard him laugh under his breath as he swiftly carried me to the passenger side of the police cruiser and shut the door. Before I could even protest Tyler slid into the car and sped away. I looked out the window just in time to see that fucker smirk at me before he and the school disappeared around a bend in the road. I slumped back into my seat and the adrenalin the ordeal must have caused faded away. A sharp pain started to emerge in the back of my head. Maybe I did have a concussion. Maybe I did just imagine Phil stopping a pickup truck with his perfect fist. 

No, I definitely didn’t imagine it. Phil somehow stopped a speeding pickup with his hand when he was on the other side the parking lot. I wasn’t concussed and I wasn’t making it up. His mind games wouldn’t work on me.

“Well you definitely have a mild concussion, dear,” the nurse told me as she examined the clipboard which contained the extent of my injuries. “You have a few small scratches on your hands from the fall, too, but otherwise you should be fine. Want me to get you something for your head?” I nodded and she left. I lay back on the uncomfortable hospital bed and took in my surroundings. The whole room was pristine and white. A curtain separated my bed from the next, which contained the boy who’d almost hit me. Every now and again a doctor would rush in or out of his section of the room but that was the most activity I’d seen. Tyler sat in the chair next to me and Phil lent against the wall, staring out of the window. 

The nurse came back with a glass of water and a few painkillers, which I quickly swallowed. She left and a few minutes later and the sharp pain turned into a dull ache.  
Phil’s head suddenly turned to the door, confusing me for a second. Then an obscenely beautiful doctor entered the room and stopped at the foot of my bed. He was young and blonde with a beard, well more like overgrown stubble but it suited him. With his pale complexion and crystal-like blue eyes, I assumed that he must be Phil’s dad. Tyler stood up and smiled brightly at the doctor. 

“Felix,” he greeted him as they embraced. 

“Hello, Tyler. Phil. And you must be Daniel.” His accent was peculiar, but not unpleasant.

“Dan, yes,” I corrected him. 

He smiled brightly at me, flashing his perfect, white teeth. “Well, Dan, you’ll be happy to hear you’re free to go.” He walked over to the side of my bed. “Come back if you feel any discomfort here,” he gently touched the back of my head. 

“I’ll make sure he does,” Tyler beamed at him and Dr Kjellberg strolled out of the room. 

“Someone has a crush,” I murmured in Tyler’s ear as I got up of the bed. I heard Phil chuckle from across the room and I wondered if he had heard me. 

“Shut up,” he scowled at me. “Can’t a man be polite to a person without being attracted to them?”

“Well, yeah,” I said, stifling a grin. “But your boner says otherwise.”

Tyler blanched and looked down at his crotch, horrified. 

“Made you look,” I giggled. I spared a glance at Phil, only to find him sliding down the wall, shaking in fits of silent laughter. At least someone appreciates my sense of humour, I thought as Tyler glared daggers into my soul. 

“Oh you’re in big trouble, mister,” Tyler whispered, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the hallway. 

We headed towards the reception desk where Dr Kjellberg was leaning over the desk collecting some paperwork. As we passed, Dr Kjellberg looked up at Tyler and winked. Tyler blushed heavily and quickened his pace. Dr Kjellberg’s laughter echoed through the hall as we exited the small hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, you actually made it through this chapter huh? Congratulations. Just click next chapter, if you will.


	4. Dance Dance Revolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all those who were actually waiting for another chapter: I'm so sorry. 
> 
> Once I write a chapter of this... Whatever this is I need a few months to recover. 
> 
> And its not like Fearmint is helping at all. 
> 
> Lazy shit...
> 
> Anyway sorry for the short chapter but I have another for you so do not fret. Think of it as an apology for all the long waits. Doesn't mean you won't be waiting another 6 months for an update though...
> 
> Please comment if you like this story and want me to continue or if you have any suggestions or feedback. Kudos are always appreciated!
> 
> -GenghisKanye

The next day, Phil Lester didn’t so much as look at me, nor did he for the next month. It’s not like I didn’t try to interact with him; god knows how hard I tried. I would greet him before every Biology lesson, only to receive a cold, emotionless stare and otherwise be ignored entirely.

Jack seemed to take Phil’s outright denial of my existence as a sign that he should persist in his amorous advances. Every Biology lesson he’d sit on top of my desk and make small talk about goodness knows what, only to be ushered away by a disgruntled Mr Grade.

“Sooooooo,” Jack grinned as he hopped onto my desk and sat, singing his legs. He reminded me of a small child, trying to be on their best behaviour.

“So?” I raised an eyebrow at him, giving him a signal to keep going.

“There’s a dance coming up and-“

“No,” I looked up at him and his smile faltered.

“What? You didn’t even know what I was going to say,” he frowned.

“You were going to ask if I was going,” I covered for myself. “I don’t dance unless it’s Dance Dance Revolution. You know, I hear that Mark doesn’t have a date yet,” I hinted.

“Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe I’ll just ask him then.” Before I could say anything else he hopped off my desk and skipped back to his own, narrowly avoiding Mr Grades attempt to swat at him with a thick textbook.

“Damn it, Jack! How many times do I have to tell you to stay in your seat?” Mr Grade growled, causing Jack to grin at him.

I turned to peek at Phil, who was surprisingly looking at me.

“Hi,” I squeaked, earning a small smile from Phil.

“Since you’re so invested in the lesson, Mr Howell, please tell me the answer to the question I just asked.” I looked up to find Mr Grade and most of the class staring expectantly at me.

“Erm,” I mumbled a red flush creeping up my neck. I looked down in shame.

“Krebs Cycle,” I heard Phil whisper. I looked over at him to see him peeking at me, his head resting in his folded arms. “The Krebs Cycle,” he repeated.

I looked up to find Mr Grade still waiting for an answer.

“The- The Krebs Cycle,” I stuttered. It was more of a question than an answer.

Mr Grade raised an eyebrow. “Correct, Mr Howell. It seems you have more than air in that little head of yours.” I bristled at the insult but kept my mouth shut and lowered my gaze.

“Thank you,” I whispered to Phil. He smiled at me and turned his head, which still rested on his arms, to look at me. “So, you’re speaking to me again?” I asked.

“I guess so,” he smiled at me. His smile dropped and his face turned serious. “I’m sorry for being like this, pushing you away. It’s better like this.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“If we're not friends,” he sighed. He looked saddened by the thought.

“Well too bad,” I said. “We’re friends, no matter how much the thought may detest you.” He smiled, his fringe falling over his eyes.

The bell rang, signalling the end of school. For the first time since knowing him, Phil didn’t immediately rush out of the classroom

“I’ll walk you to your car,” he said, “So you don’t almost die again.” I rolled my eyes but walked with him anyway.

As promised, he walked me to my car without incident. “See you tomorrow,” he grinned and skipped away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, you actually made it through this chapter huh? Congratulations. Just click next chapter, if you will.


	5. Plant Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *dead meme alert*
> 
> Why is this fic such a train wreck? I tried so hard to make art but when I read it all back it's just fuckin weird. 
> 
> Why am I allowed to post on this site?
> 
> -GenghisKanye

The next day Jack spent his time with Mark. I can’t say I wasn’t relieved to rid myself of my fan boy. They seemed really happy together, sitting close and batting their eyes flirtatiously at each other. I stared forlornly over at Phil’s usual table, sighing when my eyes caught his empty seat.

Mark slid over the table and bumped into my side.

“Lester’s staring at you again. I don’t know what you have done to him but he’s never sat away from his little clique.” I looked at Mark, confused, then followed his eyes to a table on the opposite side of the room where Phil was indeed staring at us. I felt heat creep up my neck and he grinned at me from across the room. Phil waved his hand, motioning for me to come sit with him. Mark giggled and practically pushed me out of my seat towards him. I stumbled over to his table, still blushing, and awkwardly sat down.

“Er, hi,” I said. Phil grinned at me and leant over the table towards me.

“Hi,” he said, cheerily. I was taken aback by his happiness.

“Why did you want me to come over?” I asked, skeptically. He’s never invited me to sit with him so forgive me for being cautious.

He frowned, his nose wrinkling cutely. “We’re friends now. Friends sit together.”

I smiled and he handed me a juice box. “Want some?” he asked, dangling it in front of my face.

“You didn’t drug it, did you?” I asked.

“No,” he laughed.

I took the juice from him and sipped it, pretending not to notice that he was ‘inconspicuously’ studying me.

“You’re very strange,” I said suddenly, startling him.

“I get told that a lot,” He grinned. “Being weird isn’t a bad thing. It just means you’re different, unique.”

“That’s a very optimistic way to look at things,” I smiled. “But I didn’t mean it like that. You don’t seem, well, human.” His eyes widened and he looked at me like I’d just said that Harambe was an inside job.

“Wh- what?” He stuttered.

“You seem too good to be human. It’s very annoying,” I joked and he smiled.

“Okay. If I’m not human then what am I?” he asked.

I thought for a moment. “I haven’t quite figured it out yet. Maybe some sort of plant person.”

He giggled. “Yeah, that sounds like me.”

The class bell rang and I grabbed my bag.

“No,” he pouted. “Stay with me for a little while.”

I couldn’t resist those puppy dog eyes so we sat there in comfortable silence until the cafeteria was almost empty.

“Well we should probably get going. Mr Grade will kill us if we’re late.”

“Not going,” he said.

I stared at him in horror. I thought he was a good student. “Why?”

“I have my reasons,” He said, mysteriously. He smiled and took off, waving at me before pushing the front doors open and slipping out into the hazy mist that surrounded the school.

I stood there for a while, staring after him. The tardy bell rang and I sprinted towards my next class.

Thankfully, I arrived before Mr Grade, who entered a few minutes late carrying a large box.

“Okay class, so today we gonna make you bleed,” Mr Grade laughed. The class stayed silent and he coughed to clear the awkwardness form the air. “You’re going to test your blood, okay?” He grumbled and put the box down on his desk, sliding into his chair.

I visibly paled, which is quite a feat for me. I never liked really liked blood. The class collected their supplies but I remained rooted in my seat. As they started pricking their fingers I could almost taste the pungent, metallic substance.

“Mr Grade,” I called out, feeling increasingly dizzy. “Can I be excused?” I managed to ask before I collapsed onto my desk.

I awoke a few seconds later to Jack and Mr Grade standing over me, poking my face with a ruler.

“Is he dead?” I heard Jack ask.

“What? No, you stupid boy.” Mr Grade mumbled. “Take him to the nurse; I have teacher things to do.” Mr Grade walked back to his desk, pulled out a bottle of whiskey and started sipping it.

I felt Jack hauling me up, supporting my weight. “Jesus Christ you’re heavy,” he grunted.

“You’re just weak,” I mumbled back, trying to support some of my own weight. I slid out of Jack's arms and stared up at him from the floor.

“Find your own way to the nurse then,” he laughed, sticking out his tongue and bouncing back to class.

“Asshole,” I called after him as I struggled to get up. After failing and collapsing back onto the floor, I contemplated my inability to function in normal society. I don’t know how long I was there for but I felt strong arms lift me up from the ground.

“Fancy seeing you here,” a familiar voice giggled.

“Shush, Phil. Let me die in peace,” I groaned, awkwardly flailing my arms trying to escape his hold.

“Where were you off to?” he inquired.

“Nurses office,” I mumbled, ashamed of my weakness.

“Don’t like blood?” I nodded. “Neither do I.”

I looked up at him. It was odd seeing someone so seemingly perfect have so many little flaws.

“That’s why you didn’t come to class,” I said, more of a statement than a question as it was intended to be.

“Yep,” he smiled down at me and skipped off, with my bouncing awkwardly in his arms, to the nurse’s office where he set me down and left. I stared after him until he disappeared around a corner.

“Strange boy,” I heard a woman mumble behind me, making me jump. I whipped around to find the nurse, staring at the area Phil had occupied moments before and shaking her head. I smiled awkwardly and she ushered me inside. She checked me out – not like that, pervert – and said I should probably go home. I stammered my thanks and stumbled out of the office, only to bump into Phil’s skinny frame. He grinned at me and linked his arm with mine.

“Suppose you’ll be needing someone to take you home,” he beamed at me.

“N-no, I think I’m good to drive,” I mumbled and immediately regretted it when his smile faltered.

“Oh,” he sighed. He stared at the ground for a moment before shaking his head and grinning at me once again. “Well if you think I’m going to let you drive yourself off a cliff or something, you’re more silly than I thought.” He started gently tugging my arm and after a moment of protest, I gave in and let him lead me towards his car. I spied my old rust-bucket on the other side of the lot.

“Wait, what about my dru- I mean car? I can’t leave it here,” I asked him.

“I’ll drop it off later,” He smiled, opening the passenger door for me.

“Okay,” I said, sliding into the seat. He shut the door and skipped over to the other side of the car.

The first few minutes of the ride were quiet. We sat in a comfortable silence as the trees passed by in a blur.

“Sooooo,” he hummed. “You like, er, dogs?”

“Yeah,” I laughed, taken aback by the randomness of his question. “I like Shiba Inus.”

He looked over at me and smiled. “You meme trash,” he whispered. I grinned at him and we talked about our favourite memes for the rest of the drive.

He pulled up in front of my house and I noticed Tyler’s cruiser wasn’t in its spot; it was too early for him to be home anyway.

“We’re here,” he sung annoyingly.

“I guess we are,” I giggled, opening the door. “Thank you for driving me home,” I said before sliding out and shutting the door behind me.

He leaned over the seat and stuck his head through the open window. “I’m going to be out of town this weekend so please try not to die or injure yourself like you seem to always do,” he laughed, though there was a hint of sincerity to his words. He waved at me before driving off

I fished for my keys in the pocket of my jeans. I unlocked the door and made my way to my room. I flopped down on the bed, kicking off my shoes on the way. The events of the past hour came rushing back into my mind and exhaustion overwhelmed me. My last thoughts before I fell asleep were of the mysterious boy I’d come to know and even love. I just hoped he wouldn’t shut me out again.

-=+=-=+=-=+=-

I woke up in darkness. My mind was hazy and I tried to recall the events of the day. Slowly I remembered everything that had happened over the past 12 hours. My van, I thought. Phil had dropped me off and he’d promised to drop it off later.

I rolled out of bed with all the grace of a beached whale and stumbled to the window. Sitting in the driveway in front of Tyler’s cruiser was my old rust bucket. I smiled to myself and lazily made my way downstairs to get some food.

“Hey sleepyhead, I have food for you,” Tyler said as I reached the kitchen. He was perched on the counter, his little legs swinging idly.

“You didn’t cook, did you?” I asked him in genuine fear for my life and digestive system.

“No,” he scowled at me, “I got takeout on my way home.” He hopped off the counter and walked over to the microwave. Before I knew it a box of Chinese food was flying towards my face and I just barely managed to catch it before it hit me.

“If only you could catch like that when you’re playing sports.” Tyler grinned at me and scampered out of the room clutching his takeout to his chest.

“Jerk,” I called out after him before turning to scavenge through the cutlery draw for a fork.

I skulked back to my room and sat down at my desk. I started eating and thought about making a video.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.” I spit food over my laptop. “I don’t make videos that often.”

*Author note: is very salty*

I scrolled through the dark side of Tumblr for the next few hours, looking at Sherlock fan art that was verging on porn before finally deciding to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, you actually made it through this chapter huh? Congratulations. Just click next chapter, if you will.


	6. Spooky Week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a mess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit why is this a thing? Why am I still writing this? Why are you all reading this?
> 
> \- GenghisKanye

The next day was as uneventful as ever. I went to class, was harassed by Mr Pepper, and pitifully wished that Phil hadn’t left me alone.

I was, unfortunately, reminded at lunch that the beach trip Jack had been so diligently planning was the next day. Just another social situation that I'm getting forced into, I thought bitterly, disregarding the fact that I had agreed to come. 

As I crossed the parking lot that afternoon, I couldn't help but search for that shiny, silver Volvo, even though I knew it wasn't there. What is this boy doing to me, I wondered, pulling out of the lot and making my way home. 

-=+=-=+=-=+=-

“Get in the van, Daniel!” Jack screeched, his patience with me wearing thin. 

“For the last damn time, no. It smells like cat pee.” 

After a good ten minutes of Jack trying to force me into his mother's van, he finally resorted to violent measures. 

“So help me if you don't get in this van right now I will not hesitate to castrate you with a spoon,” he ground out, an insane glint appearing in his eyes. I wondered if I had finally driven him mad. 

“Fine, I concede, but only because I'd very much like to keep my balls intact.” 

A sigh of relief escaped his lips and he shut the van door behind me. I instantly screwed up my face in disgust, the pungent odour becoming more distinct with the van's poor ventilation. 

“This is how I die,” I moaned. “Suffocated by the smell of cat pee.”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Mark said, rolling his eyes, but I knew he was unhappy about the situation too, as he rolled down his window almost immediately and stuck his head out, breathing deeply. 

“Okay,” Jack grinned, looking around at the car's occupants. “Who wants to sing with me?” His question was met with a chorus of groans, which were effectively ignored. “One thousand bottles of beer on the wall!” He began. 

“This is going to be a very long car ride,” I muttered. 

-=+=-=+=-=+=-

The van door slid open and I was left sputtering and gasping for the precious, clean air I had been deprived of. As the group exited the vehicle and made their way down to the water, I had no choice but to follow. I had always loathed the beach; getting sand in every orifice wasn’t my idea of a fun time. 

While the others wasted their time making a bonfire, I decided to walk down the beach. I hadn’t gotten far when I came upon a group of shirtless guys. Me, being the respectful person I am, decided it was a brilliant idea to gawk at their abs. It wasn’t long before they noticed me staring, and one particularly handsome boy swaggered over. 

“Hola, Daniel,” he said, grinning widely at me.

“How do you know my name?” I asked, mildly surprised at being recognised this far away from the town.

“Oh, come on. You seriously don’t remember me?” he pouted, looking slightly hurt. 

“You kinda look familiar.” I concentrated hard on his face, trying to remember where i’d seen him before.

“Its Chris!” he shouted, throwing his hands up.

“Chris, as in my dad’s friend’s son Chris?” 

“Do you know any other Chris’?” he asked, skeptically.

“Now that I think of it, no.”

“What are you doing in La Push?” 

“My friends dragged me here,” I sighed.

He looked shocked. “You actually have friends?”

“Honestly, you can just fuck right off.” I brushed past him and continued on my journey down the beach.

“I was kidding! Kind of...” He laughed awkwardly, matching my pace.

“Whatever,” I grumbled. 

“So how are you liking Sporks?” He asked, trying to make conversation. 

“It’s okay. Beats Arizona. They call it Satan’s Butthole for a reason.” He snorted. “Can I ask you a question?” I asked.

“You just did.”

“Another question,” I sighed.

“Now I’m confused,” he said, genuinely looking confused.

“I meant… Nevermind. I’m just going to ask. Do you know anything about the… Dr Kjellberg and his kids?”

He stopped walking and stared at me. “Why do you want to know about them?” 

“I saw them at school and I wanted to know about them,” I lied. 

“Well, let me tell you a story. Long ago, there lived a pack of my people…”

“What exactly are your people, anyway? What do you call the indigenous people of England?”

“Shut up and stop interrupting!” he snapped. “If you must know, my tribe is called the Quilters.”

“The.. What? Quilters? As in quilt makers?” I started laughing. “Do you knit too?”

“I said stop interrupting!” he screeched. 

“Okay, okay. Jesus fucking christ,” I muttered.

“AS I WAS SAYING, long ago, there lived a pack of my people. They were a happy people, they frolicked in the meadows daily. Every morning they would each go and pick flowers; it was a tradition, you see. And every evening they would burn the flowers on a ceremonial pyre as a sacrifice to the doggo gods, and pray to the doggo gods. ‘Good doggo’ they would chant as they slit the throat of a goat and drank its blood.”

“Sorry, but I have to interrupt. What does this have to do with Dr Kjellberg’s family?”

“Nothing. Why do you want to know about them?”

“We’ve been through this,” I told him.

“We have?”

“Yes. Are you going to tell me about them, or not?”

“Okay,” he said. I sighed in relief; finally I was getting somewhere. “It all started long ago, on this very land. Two orphaned sisters were ruling over the people, the eldest to be crowned queen. All was well, but the queen-to-be had a terrible secret that she had never told anyone about. At her coronation, her people found out about her secret, and she fled into the wilderness, leaving her kingdom in disarray. She built a kingdom of isolation, and let everything go..”

“That's the plot to Frozen,” I sighed, holding my face in my hands. “This is useless,” I muttered, turning on my heel and walking away. 

“Just let it go, Dan,” he called after me as I stalked away. 

“I guess that’s what I get for asking an idiot for answers,” I told myself, sitting back down with my friends and listening to their idle chatter while I tried to get Phil, and Chris’ stupid fucking story out off my head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, you actually made it through this chapter huh? Congratulations. Just click next chapter, if you will.


	7. Hello Internet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha! Bet you thought you'd seen the last of me! I have not forgotten about this mess I've made. Unfortunately, it's taking more time to write, edit and upload without Fearmint helping, but I will persevere and will hopefully I'll get another chapter or two out before the new year. If there are any mistakes in this chapter or any others feel free to tell me and I'll fix them.As always, suggestions and feedback are always appreciated. 
> 
> Have another dose of crazy, my dudes.
> 
> \- Genghis Kanye

That night I told Tyler that I wasn’t hungry, and was going to sleep early. I really wasn’t hungry, but I just wanted to be alone after the clusterfuck of a day I’d had.

I made my way upstairs and flopped onto my bed, sliding my phone out from my pocket. I plugged my headphones in and put on some Kanye, letting his heavenly voice wash over me. I closed my eyes and cleared my head of everything Phil-related; I just wanted to forget everything for a while. I felt myself slowly slipping into unconsciousness, which I wholeheartedly embraced. 

The next thing I knew, I was in a dense, green forest, silent save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. It was both peaceful and unnerving, and I had a feeling that I wasn’t alone. 

I turned around and saw Chris step out from a dark grove of trees, a frown on his face. I started to ask what was wrong, but a sound from behind alerted me to another presence. Phil stood before me, as radiant as the sun, the same frown marring his perfect face. I heard Chris growl behind me, Phil flinching at the sound. Phil hissed back, showing long, pointed teeth where his canines should have been. 

Chris stepped in front of me, crouching as if ready to pounce. Phil adopted a similar stance and they stood perfectly still, as if waiting for the other to make a move. 

I heard a cringeworthy cracking of bones as Chris’s form changed. In an instant, Chris was gone and in his place stood the cutest Shiba Inu I’d ever seen. Phil Hissed louder and the Shiba Inu barked aggressively as it launched itself at Phil.

“Bad doggo!” I shouted as I bolted upright in my bed, covered in sweat. I looked frantically around, trying to catch a glimpse of Phil, Chris or the dog, but I was completely alone. 

I knew that I wouldn’t be able to get to sleep again, so I moved to my desk and started my computer. As the familiar Google logo appeared, I whispered to myself “Hello, Internet. My name is Dan.” 

I was determined to find an answer the question that was Phil, once and for all. 

-=+=-=+=-=+=-

As the sun shone through my bedroom window, I was still very much awake. It was a sunny day, a rare occurrence in Sporks. I drove to school without the fear of ice or rain sending my car careening off a cliff. I parked in my usual space and looked around for Phil’s silver Volvo. I scoured the entire parking lot but, to my dismay, his car was not there. 

Phil wasn’t in biology that day either, meaning I had to dissect a worm all by myself. I watched it wiggle for a while before pushing it away; after the dream I’d had, I didn’t want to see any more violence, even towards that pitiful worm. 

At lunch Ken and Mark caught up to me, more excited than usual. 

“Dan, want to come dress shopping with us for the dance?” Mark asked enthusiastically. 

“What? Dress shopping? Why are you going dress shopping?” I asked, thoroughly confused. 

“For the dance, dumbass. I said that,” Mark explained, rolling his eyes. 

“No, I mean why are you buying dresses? Why not a nice tux?”

“Are you saying guys can’t wear dresses? This isn’t the 1800’s, Daniel! I can wear a dress if I want to!” Mark screeched, sounding uncannily similar to a pterodactyl. 

“Okay, jeez, sorry!” I stammered. Mark’s tirade had thoroughly scared me.

“And I’ll have you know when the breeze is just right it feels great against my ba-”

“Okay! Okay, I get it! For the love of baby Jesus stop!”

“So will you come?” Mark asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, sure. Just no more talk of the breeze against your balls.” Mark grinned and pulled Ken along with him to their next class, leaving me alone with my salad and thoughts of Phil in a dress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, you actually made it through this chapter huh? Congratulations. Just click next chapter, if you will.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, you actually made it through this chapter huh? Congratulations. Just click next chapter, if you will.


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